“That’s because he’s not exactly an angel anymore, now is he?”

She swallowed. “No, he isn’t.” The bandages on her chest were pulling on her skin. She didn’t want to look down and see the mess that had been made of her flesh. She could still feel Brandt’s claws, sinking into her chest.

Jade took a deep breath and forced her head to lift. Tanner’s gaze was full of sympathy and that just made her feel vulnerable. And a little sad. “How am I still alive?”

“You’re alive because your veins are pumping with that not-quite angel blood.”

Shock froze her for a moment.

“We rushed you here,” he said. “My brother got you on his table, did his best to patch you up, and then Az gave you the dirtiest blood transfusion that I’ve ever seen.”

“Blood transfusion?” Goose bumps rose on her flesh.

“Um . . .” He inclined his head toward her. “I thought you were dead, but that ex-angel of yours brought you right back to life.”

She didn’t remember any transfusion. She didn’t remember a doctor. Only . . .

Black wings, rising above her. A monster with eyes darker than night.

Jade licked her lips. “Where is Az?”

Tanner glanced toward the shut door. “When we saw that you were starting to wake up, we figured it might be best if you didn’t see him or Cody first thing.”

“Cody?”

“My brother.”

Brandt had never mentioned him. But then again, he hadn’t told her about Tanner, either.

Jade rolled her shoulders. The doctor must have given her some fabulous drugs. She didn’t hurt at all. Actually, she felt stronger than she’d ever been before.

But . . . “Why would it be best for me not to see them?” That part didn’t make any sense.

“Because the last time you saw the two of them, you screamed so loud and long that we had to knock you out.”

Shaking her head, she said, “No, no, I didn’t—”

“I was outside, running in the woods, and your screams damn near deafened me.”

He didn’t look like he was bullshitting her.

“We wanted to make sure you woke up feeling calm and safe.”

A shifter was supposed to make her feel safe? She would’ve felt much safer with Az. Jade glanced around the room as she pushed up into a better sitting position. She was in a bed, a small, twin bed that had been pushed against the far right wall. Faint sunlight trickled through the thin white curtains. “How long was I out?”

“About ten hours.”

So long?

A light knock rapped at the door.

Tanner didn’t take his gaze off her. “You ready for this?”

She gave a light laugh that just came out sounding lost. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You will. ’Cause you aren’t the same anymore.” He squared his shoulders. “Just remember that you’re safe. I’ll be right beside you.”

She wanted Az beside her.

“Come in!” Tanner called out.

The door opened. A man’s dark head appeared. Not Az.

The guy came in. His broad shoulders pushed past the doorway. His head was down, his long hair brushing over his cheeks. “Glad you’re awake.” His voice was a deep rumble of sound. “You were starting to worry us.” His head lifted and his eyes met hers.

Black eyes. Completely black eyes. Even the sclera. Every single part of his eyes were black.

Jade didn’t make a sound.

She’d heard stories, of course. She knew about the demons who walked the earth. Some demons possessed enormous power, enough to level a city block. Others were barely more than human. But, according to the stories, they all had the same eyes. Eyes as black as the night. They used glamour to change the color of their eyes and fool humans so they wouldn’t realize what monsters stood beside them.

This guy wasn’t using any glamour. He was showing her his real eyes.

He reached for her wrist. She managed—barely—not to yank her hand back from him. Brandt’s brother, and a demon. Talk about having two strikes against you.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Two fingers pressed against her inner wrist as he checked her pulse. “I’m not like Brandt.”

She couldn’t look away from his gaze.

“You see me for what I am, don’t you?”

“I-is there a particular reason you aren’t bothering with the glamour magic?” Maybe he felt safe in his home. Maybe . . .